P41N7bYNUMB3RS
by talcumpowder
Summary: For the record, the paint was red. vague AxelZexion
1. Paint by Numbers

**Pre-Notes:** I have come to the conclusion that I am most definitely pregnant. I have this unexplained dislike towards Axel/Zexion. _It breaks my brain_. This is apparent here.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't even think I want to own Kingdom Hearts. I do like Altoids though.  
**Summary:** For the record, the paint was red.

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P41N7b¥NUMB3RS  
"_Number eight was always some form of red._"

There was, he later concluded, no real reason for him to pick up the paint-by-numbers set in the drugstore. It was one of those generic and tacky cartoon pictures with a little string of paint pots filled with cheap, caked paint. This particular picture was of an elephant in a forest, which he thought was slightly stupid. After all, with ears shaped like that it was obviously an African elephant and those didn't live in forests. At least, they hadn't when he'd last studied about them.

And so, he was scoffing at the stupidity of the picture when the redhead walked up. This was how it all started, with a paint-by-numbers set and the colour red.

"Eight," the stranger said quite suddenly, "is the colour of fire."

He looked up from the paint-by-numbers set and into glass-green eyes. Those eyes sparkled with mischief, and he was vaguely afraid of this stranger.

"If eight is fire," he stated flatly, "then six is obviously white."  
The stranger's lips curled into a smile, "Are you so sure?"  
"Yes. Six is subtle, neutral and quite content to be a non-colour."

The sparkle in the stranger's eyes grew, if that was possible. He took a slight, involuntary step away from the stranger while clutching the paint-by-numbers set to his chest protectively.

"I think," the stranger drawled, "that six is more of a . . . Slate grey."  
". . . Slate grey is _not _a paint-by-numbers colour."  
"It is when you're painting elephants."

With that, the stranger plucked the paint-by-numbers set from him and walked over to the counter. Despite his best efforts, he followed the stranger to the register and watched with vague interest as the stranger paid for the stolen set, a decidedly girly magazine, a package of Altoids and a bottle of water.

He was just a tad bit surprised when the stranger picked up the paint-by-numbers set and handed it to him. Taking it, he opened his mouth to thank him but was cut off.

"Name's Axel, got it memorised?"  
"Thank you then, Axel."  
This "Axel" quirked an eyebrow, "I don't get a name in return?"  
A slight pause, "Zexion." Another pause before a question, "Would you like some coffee or something?"  
"Do we get to discuss phone numbers instead of paint-by-numbers?"  
". . . Maybe."

And even he didn't know that coffee would spiral into a movie into dinner into whatever you called this uncertain relationship. He safely told himself that six and eight don't play nice except, and this was a very big except, in tacky drugstore pain-by-numbers sets. After all, African elephants in jungles painted slate grey obviously needed a sunset of red to bring out their true flavour. It was just plain common sense, everyone knew it.

The once-stranger named Axel never questioned why there was a carefully painted picture of an elephant delicately taped to Zexion's refrigerator. It, in all of it's tacky glory, symbolised what they were all about. How many people could say they met through tacky craft kits and colour discussion?

After all, it started with a paint-by-numbers kit and the colour red.

----

**Postit-Notes:** I hope I never, ever have to use the phrase _paint-by-numbers_ that many times in less than one page ever again. I also hope I never, ever have to paint a tacky paint-by-numbers kit of an elephant. It would totally be a slate-grey colour and you know it.


	2. Fickle as the Sun

**Pre-Notes:**Happy Winter Solstice! Not Christmas, this is a _Winter Solstice_ fic and not a_holiday occurring around Winter Solstice_ fic.  
**Disclaimer:** Santa would've been Sephiroth if I owned it.  
**Summary:** "Winter Solstice" meant nothing except more night.

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Fickle as the Sun  
**solstice** (n., sŏl'stĭs) - either of the two times of the year when  
the sun is at its greatest distance from the celestial equator

Red. He was not fond of the holiday season because of all the red. It seemed to him that the world needed to realise that Six and Eight do not play well together because Six is always slate grey and Eight is always red. That has been decided already.

What has not been decided, though, is why the bright sunset of a stranger (and yet a friend) was following him around. He turned and stared at the stranger for a moment.

The stranger waved, "Hi, Zexion. What's up?"

He blinked. Oh yes, this was the mysterious "Axel" he'd met some time ago in a drugstore. They had spent a considerable amount of time together and he was still no closer to knowing the man or his purposes. This frightened him to some extent.

He waved back, "A preposition. And how are you?"  
"Axel" shook his head of wild spikes, "Just an expression, Zexion. And I'm fine. Do you, by some fluke, know what day today is?"  
He shrugged, "December twenty-second. It's a Saturday."  
"Axel" sighed, "That wasn't what I was asking, but whatever. Today's Winter Solstice, Zexion! I thought you, of all people, would know that."

He tilted his head to the side. What, exactly, was the importance of it being Winter Solstice? All that meant was the night was long and dreary. Besides, it meant higher electrical bills for the exorbitant amount of heating and machinery that made him nice, streaming drinks.

But there was nothing more to it. He stared into glass-green eyes, uncomprehending. "Axel" sighed in defeat and slung an arm around him.

"Winter Solstice. Longest night of the year. Ringing any bells up there?"  
"I know," he said flatly, "what Winter Solstice is. I simply fail to understand it's significance."

"Axel" ruffled his slate grey hair and pulled his hands apart for effect.

"_Longest_ night of the year."

He still failed to see any significance to the holiday. In fact, holidays in general were rather trite and annoying for him. A small shrug.

"And?"  
"Axel" buried his face in his hands, "You are so dense. Would you like me to spell this out for you? L-O-N-"  
He stopped the stranger, "I know how to spell, but thank you for the offer. Just tell me the significance you attach to this rather inane holiday."

Another sigh of defeat from "Axel." He watched with detached interest as "Axel" walked forward and faced him. There were hands placed gently upon his shoulders and a small, almost imperceptible smirk on "Axel"'s lips as he opened them to speak.

"As you wish."

There was little time to think as "Axel" leaned forward and gentle pressure was suddenly being applied to his lips. He gasped and pushed away from "Axel," sputtering. The back of a hand dragged across his mouth as he stared wildly at "Axel."

"What in the fucking hell was _that_?"  
A cocky grin, "Your Winter Solstice present, of course."

And with that, it suddenly dawned on him exactly what significance the phrase _longest night of the year_ had. He blinked a couple of times. Sure, he knew that this "Axel" was a pyrotechnist at the local theme park. He knew that "Axel" kept a rather eclectic set of friends who approved of him, whatever that meant. This same person liked green tea over coffee, loved to cook and knew exactly when to shut up. This was one of those moments.

". . . Would you like some coffee or something?"  
Another cocky grin, "Only if it comes after my Winter Solstice present."

He bit his lip for a second before catching the sunset's arm and pulling him forward into a soft kiss. "Axel" pulled him closer and it stopped being such a chaste kiss, to which he pushed him away and put a hand on his hip.

"I think we talk, it is the longest night of the year."  
A pause, "Only if talk is, like, code for sex."

He shook his head and led the still enigmatic "Axel" down the street. He suddenly wanted to know everything about this man and it transcended his usual scientific curiosity for once. Well, maybe not. He was curious about exactly why red went so well with slate grey.

----

**Postit-Notes:** So there you have it, the only Winter Solstice fic I've been completely fine with. Except for eight or nine things, one of which being the pairing . . . I blame it all you. Yes, you. The people that put _P41N7b¥NUMB3RS_ on alert because you're weird. As much as I love you? I still don't like this pairing.


End file.
